The Slow Death

Poetry 1 Minute

You can taste it..
In the back of your mouth,
The rancid bitterness,
That seeps beneath your skin,
The bile that stains your soul,
Leaving you unclean,
Dirty and forsaken..
Sickness oozing from dull gaze,
Eclipsing the light within,
Circling thoughts like ravens,
Omens of doom,
Jostling for still living offal..
Branches of memory lay stripped,
Their green and gold tattered,
Now the twist and gnarl of winter,
Brittle and easily lost..
Vains pumping viscous tar,
Regrets chokeing air from lungs,
Coughing up venomous words,
Poison apples coated in sugar..
It’s a slow death,
When emotions fester and rot,
The worm of fear,
Slowly devouring blackened soul,
Spreading its petulance,
Putrid tears spill into thirsty earth,
The inevitable pull,
The yawning maw of gray nothing,
Becomes the only path to travel.

😏 a bit of spooky writing to kick off the change in season.

Best wishes -SirHanz

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Published by sirhanz

My path in writing, art, or poetry had always been one of seemingly contradictory things meshing to find balance.  Transporting a reader into the depths of their imagination or showing a glimpse of the world through my eyes. Inspireing new thoughts or shifting a readers view to a new perspective has always made me smile. Writing connects me to strangers and those I care about. I write as a creative outlet and as a way to share my thoughts.  Sometimes catharsis,  sometimes simply seeking to share or create beauty.  I openly write about my experiences as a dom and the kinks I enjoy. Sensuality and sexuality both find a home in my work and inspire me to write. I pour feelings onto the page like splashes of paint, throw them out into the world and for some reason people like them. It baffles me but I enjoy the hell out of it. I hope I can continue to inform, amuse, and inspire desire in you all. Best wishes  -SirHanz

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